clean and jerk: a weightlift in which the barbell is lifted to shoulder height and then jerked overhead

This fire is so relevant

The tiredness settled in my eyes, then around it. Or is it the other way around.
I don’t know where I am.
I’m looking at myself somewhere in a bathroom mirror.
This is the fear I think. You know the way sometimes one says “you” and “I” but you both mean yourself. I won’t be able to hide my confusion today.
I cleaned my apartment this morning hoping that it will made me feel better. This is the third night in a row that I could not sleep. I cleaned only part of my apartment. For instance, I cleaned the kitchen tops, but left the floor dirty. That does not make sense. Actually, disinfect is probably a better word than cleaning.
I sweat a lot thru the night.
All right, now I know where I am. I’m at a gallery coffee shop waiting for her. We met once before at the place. This place makes me think of her.
She is sitting at the table waiting for me.
She has many friends. But when she spends time with someone she makes sure that that person has undivided attention, switching off her phone for instance. She probably has 50 good friends. Probably I have 5. This is also the way I want it but to a degree it is like her world is much bigger. There is no doubt about it that she is more of a human being as far as the feelings department goes. Looking into her eyes was enough to have me interested.
She has a huge emotional palette in her eyes.
That is the best way to describe her.
After I left I decided that I need to get some sleep before the wedding, it is critical.
I will do with the Dormicum now.
The pill knocks me out as soon as I stepped shivering out of the shower. I would not have been able to stand another night. I slept for 3 hours then my clock goes off. It feels good to have slept.
Going to the wedding I play music in the car.
Her X boyfriend was also invited to the wedding and the bride asked me not to invite her.
I knew immediately whom the guy is when I see him because he is hearing impaired and carry an instrument behind his ear. He is well build. But the fucker is half deaf and she still preferred him. On the way to the drinks table he almost slipped and laughed at himself. What can I say; he looks like a great guy.
I am taking pictures of the bon fire thru the plastic covers of the tent when he walks to me. He does not know who I am.
But I’ve been thinking of his X girlfriend all night.
He asks what I’m taking pictures of. I’m showing him on the digital camera screen the pictures of the fire. That is all there is. Just pictures of this fire. I haven’t been taken pictures of the bride, the church or the cake. I’ve been taken pictures of this fire and all that I know is, I feel better. I’m recovering in my mind. I don’t know why. It is going to be hell regardless. This fire is so relevant.

Sending sandstone.

Hi internet! I'm back! Did you miss me?

I have a coating of red dirt an inch thick on me, my dog, and most of my belongings. I'm scabbed from tips to elbows. I spent an hour in the shower and i still don't think I'm clean.

Six days of sleeping in the dirt. Five days of climbing big, red, rocks. Twenty six hours of driving. Way too much 7-11 food.

I think I want to go back.

Indian Creek, just outside Moab, Utah. One of the world's premier climbing destinations, the best crack climbing on the planet, and pretty much my idea of paradise. On my list of the top three places I'd rather be, anywhere.